Queen of the Brave
by dancer4813
Summary: After the train crash, Susan finds three journals Lucy filled with her adventures in Narnia. Finally realizing the consequences of her disbelief, she turns back to Aslan and becomes a friend of Narnia once again... But what special task does Aslan have for her to do?


The news had come that her father, mother, sister, brothers- all of them had died. Died because of a stupid train crash. All of them were gone forever, never to return.

Susan might have cut herself off from the rest of her family as she explored the world on her own, but it was still a tragedy. The news had pulled her away from her latest beau and back into the real world, the one she had tried to forget by drowning her problems or worries with manufactured love.

The dark-haired girl was left to make funeral arrangements for almost every member of her family she had left. With wills and possessions and legal workings to sort out, Susan found less and less time to spend with boys, and they made excuses to spend less time with her. All of them seemed to have received the memo that Susan was different - she wasn't fun to be with any longer.

So she was alone - twenty one with only a part time job and no one to keep her company - when she found the journals.

In the attic of her parent's house, the same one she had lived in when she was young, she found them. Three very worn and used, very full journals with a neat _Lucy Pevensie_ inscribed on the inside cover of each.

In previous years, Susan would have let the journals be without a second thought. Who wanted to waste their time reading the ramblings of a child when there were much better things to be doing with your time? But as she handled the books carefully, she couldn't make herself put them down. It was almost as if the books wanted-_needed _to be read.

That evening, she brought them back to the apartment she was renting and set them on the counter as she heated up some soup leftover from the night before on the stove. She set about getting bread, butter, a spoon, a bowl and other necessities from the cupboard and arranging them on the table in her usual neat manner, but kept feeling her eyes being drawn to the journals.

She tidied up and carried the three books into her sitting room that doubled as a dining room when there was company to be had. She turned on the small black and white television, trying to watch the news, but again her eyes continued to drift back to the journals: three leather-bound black books sitting so innocently on the side table.

For the rest of the evening it was the same – Susan would try to accomplish something, be it brushing her teeth or taking a shower, but her attention would be taken over by the books.

And yet something made her avoid them, despite their allure. Every time her attention wandered she would find something else to do, something else to occupy herself with. Every time she found her eyes straying toward where the books were (she couldn't keep herself from carrying them around with her, as if they would disappear at any moment) she would forcefully pull her gaze back to her task, as difficult as it was.

But, when Susan was dressed in her nightclothes and in bed, the house tidy and clean as she liked it and a kerosene lamp burning brightly at her bedside, she could find no other excuse. Carefully she lifted the first of the three journals off the stack and opened it.

_December 25th, 1940_

_Today has been a strange day. It felt like I should have gotten a cordial instead of a sweater, a dagger instead of a new fountain pen._

_It felt strange to see the snow outside Professor Kirke's manor today and to receive wrapped presents placed beneath a brightly decorated evergreen instead of from Mr. Claus himself, straight from his reindeer-pulled sleigh. It was strange to see a hare in the garden and not have it call out a greeting as any talking animal in Narnia would have._

_Not that I am ungrateful, not at all. In fact, I very much enjoyed the hand-knitted sweater from Mrs. Macready (I _knew_ she had a heart!) and, of course these journals from the Professor. At first I wondered what I would write in such beautiful books - everyday life at the Professor's house seems far to trivial and repetative to record with any amount of detail. But then I asked the Professor what I should write, as we sat down for hot chocolate for the evening, and I can vividly remember his answer._

_"Why Lucy, these are for you to write whatever your heart desires! Secrets, dreams, wishes, fantasies, adventures, poetry - anything goes!"_

_His words reminded me of my own adventures - adventures that came from fifteen years of being a queen of Narnia. We (the four of us) had made a promise to not speak of our time in Narnia, except among ourselves, but these books seem to be the perfect way to tell the story. Naturally I didn't want to be called crazy again (it was quite bad enough when Susan and Peter thought I was losing my mind, thank you very much), but that is the wonder of writing. If, indeed, anyone were to read the stories illustrated here, be it decades or centuries in the future, they would simply see it as the wild imaginings of an eight-year old girl (much as my siblings thought when I first spoke of Narnia)._

_So that is what I have decided these journals will be filled with. The things I can remember from Narnia. From our fifteen years as kings and queens of Narnia. Our story of the white witch, Jadis, of the Beavers and their hospitality, of my friendship with Mr. Tumnus. Stories of battles and victories and pleasant times and trials. Stories that will likely be remembered as just that - stories._

_I begin tomorrow. I am much too tired right now. Good night!_

_~Lucy_

Susan stared down at the open book in her lap, at the writing written by a small hand, though the letters were elegantly shaped. Tears came to her eyes as she imagined a young Lucy sitting down to write those words, her brow furrowed in concentration and one hand curling a bit of hair around the fingers.

She'd been too preoccupied with plans and arrangements that the truth hadn't hit her until she read the entry. Her sister, the annoying little girl who had been so jealous and yet so alive was _gone._ Forever.

A thick knot worked it's way into Susan's throat as she continued to stare at the book. Now that she thought back, she could vaguely remember the sight of her sister hunched over a journal, scribbling furiously. She could even call up a memory of Edmund's teasing about Lucy keeping a diary, which had been silenced almost immediately by Lucy herself.

_"It's NOT a diary, and if you can't find somewhere else to go and be immature, then I will just have to find somewhere else to write in peace."_

Yep. That had certainly shut Edmund up. A small smile came to Susan's face at the memory, and she turned the page to read more.

Narnia might have been her sister's fairytale world (which Susan remembered vaguely, though all the memories of them playing make-believe were blurred), but it was something that kept her sister near. It was a connection that Susan desperatly wanted - no, _needed_ to keep.

-[]-[]-[]-

The next evening Susan finished the last journal entry. She had been reading obsessively, only pausing to eat and sleep. It was like the whole thing was a fantastic book that she just couldn't put down.

The Susan of a few weeks prior would have been alarmed. She was not much of a bookworm, and generally read romance if she felt like enjoying a book. So the sudden urge to read three short 'books' filled with adventures and sword fights and talking animals was quite strange.

Yet she had read and read and read some more until they were all finished. The last entry was short and to the point, and a few tears had smudged the ink in places.

_In ways I feel more like a child than I did two years ago. For it was only two years ago that I had already lived for fifteen years as a queen and was twenty-three years old for a time. And yet I feel older. Aslan said, after we'd escorted Reepicheep to Aslan's country, that Edmund and I would no longer be coming back to Narnia. I had known the time would come eventually, as all things must come to an end, but I had hoped for a few more years. Peter had been fourteen and Susan thirteen when they had 'learned all there was to know', but I am only ten physically, even if I am older in the mental and spiritual world._

_Still, I trust Aslan's judgement and remember my family and friends that are still considered friends of Narnia. And, especially now, when I feel inadequate and lonely and long for the land beyond the wardrobe, I will always remember what Aslan told us: "Once a King or Queen of Narnia, always a King or Queen of Narnia."_

Susan had to read the last sentence nearly six times to make sense of it. She had felt a strange familiarity as she read through the journal. Almost as if Lucy had been narrating dreams she'd had in her younger years.

_Once a King or Queen of Narnia, always a King or Queen of Narnia._

Something pulsed in Susan's head and she brought a hand to it, crying out softly in pain.

_Once a King or Queen of Narnia, always a King or Queen of Narnia._

The pressure increased rapidly and Susan felt like something was struggling to break free.

_Once a King or Queen of Narnia, always a King or Queen of Narnia._

Susan yelled again, her vision going black and she brought both hands to her head, dropping the last journal to the ground. It felt like something was expanding in her head, pushing aside other thoughts to take precedence and importance. She passed out, falling sideways onto her bed, her hair fanned out around her.

_Once a King or Queen of Narnia, always a King or Queen of Narnia._

* * *

Susan was floating in an expanse of blackness. She remembered the journals, the pain and then- nothing.

Looking around, there was no esecaping the darkness and even when she whipped around there was no change in the scene before her. She tried calling out, but her voice echoed back instantly from all directions, as if she were in a circular tower.

"Hello?" she called again, a dull fear growing in the pit of her chest. "Is anybody there?"

As before, there was no answer but her own words thrown back at her. Susan fell silent and wrapped her arms around herself, feeling younger than her twenty-one years. What if she had died and this, this utter blackness, was the afterlife? If she was stuck in this void for the rest of eternity? Susan had never considered herself a religious person, but she had assumed that after death there would be something more than darkness.

There she was, floating in the never-ending darkness. There was no wind, no movement, not even a sound except for that of her own breathing inside her head. It was a state of noiseless inactivity where time stretched on in dizzying circles. Susan tried counting seconds in her head, but found herself unable to keep track. She couldn't concentrate despite the emptiness and, she supposed, she couldn't even know if time meant anything at all in the void.

A memory came to her mind, of a snow-covered forest and a thin, black lamppost glowing softly. Next came a glimpse of a finely carved bow and a majestic white horn. Then a large dam, a tall castle looking like it was made of ice, a memory of finding a statue of a half-goat, half-man that looked terrified where she then allowed her sister into a comforting hug, a stone table with words written around the edge...

More and more images and memories sped into her mind through the blackness, faster and faster until it felt like something shattered and Susan _remembered._

Susan could remember the awe of walking through the wardrobe, the fear of the White Witch, Jadis, the feel of a bow in her hands and the perfect feel of a knocked arrow hitting it's target.

Susan remembered her experiences through her own eyes rather than Lucy's narration and felt awed that she had forgotten. How had she forgotten so much of herself, of Narnia? How could she have forgotten Aslan proclaiming her "Queen Susan the Gentle"? How could she have forgotten the many travels the four of them had taken through the Archenland and other such places as their Kingly and Queenly roles called them there? How could she have forgotten Caspian, Tumnus, Reepicheep, the beavers and so many others who had been locked away in her memory?

The roar of a great lion sounded through what had been silence and Susan jumped in surprise, then found herself falling and falling until she hit a surprisingly soft ground.

Opening her eyes, they were nearly blinded by a bright blue sky and puffy white clouds that looked to be right out of a fairy tale.

"What?" she whispered, sitting up and blinking rapidly. A light breeze played with the ends of her long hair and as she breathed in she could smell the fresh scent of water and grass that the wind carried with it.

Susan sat, at peace in the strange new existense that was so different from the terrifying blackness she had experienced before. Until she felt as though she was being watched. Her eyes opened and she found herself face-to-face with a magnificent lion whose golden mane rippled elegantly in the sun.

"Aslan!" she cried happily, springing to her feet and racing forward before stopping short, her face falling and her eyes suddenly turned to the ground.

"What is it, dear child?"

"Oh Aslan-" Susan cut herself off with a choked sob. "Aslan, it was terrible. I couldn't remember _anything_ about _anything_ from Narnia, and it wasn't even until I read Lucy's journals that I even remembered at all! And it- it reminded me of when we came to save Caspian and the rest of Narnia from the Telemarines. When she was the only one who could see you and I-"

Susan looked up at the great lion before her, but his silence bid her continue.

"I was the last of us who could see you. I didn't believe you were even there until the last moment." Tears streamed down her face now and she made no effort to wipe them away.

"Hush child," Aslan said, stepping forward and leaning his head against her shoulder. Susan took no time in letting her arms come around his neck as she buried her face in his mane, great sobs still shaking her body as she whispered over and over again.

"Sorry, I'm so so sorry."

"Hush," he repeated, bringing one paw up to encircle her in a hug. "There is nothing to be sorry for. Even the best of us can fall astray sometimes and even though some of us may fall away for longer than others, even enough to no longer be considered a friend of Narnia, there is always a place for the lost when they need it. Why even Trumpkin, who had never seen me in his life and thought I was a myth was able to see me eventually. It is all up to the hearts of those astray to turn back around and you, my dear, have vome back to me."

Susan, whose sobs had receeded a bit, relapsed into tears, though her new tears were of joy at his continued acceptance of her despite her betrayal.

"Thank you, Aslan. Thank you," she murmured under her breath. "Thank you so much."

The lion allowed her tears to subside before stepping away again, allowing Susan to see his face.

"Now Susan, daughter of Eve, I have a task for you," Aslan said, standing tall and proud once again. "Your time on Earth is not over like that of your siblings and cousin and friends. No, you have another purpose, Queen Susan the Gentle."

Susan nodded, willing him to go on though her eyes were red from tears and she couldn't stop smiling.

"You must be a teacher of young minds. I will give you the gift of magic, which has been concealed from most 'ordinary' folk on Earth for quit some time. I will then send you to one who has taught these young magic users for many years. Though he is not the oldest or wisest in your time, he will grow up to be one of the greatest wizards of the age. He will see my blessing upon you and teach you to control your gift and use it according to your talents. Now, I must ask: do you accept this charge?"

"I do, Aslan," Susan said reverently as she nodded her head.

"Then I give you my blessing," he said, and roared a great roar.

Though Susan had heard Aslan roar before, to wipe out enemies and to awaken the sleeping tree nymphs and dryads, she felt something more in his most recent bellow. A sort of power surged through her body, flowing into her as the wind from his roaring washed over her. The power rushed around and through her, as if she were in the middle of a great whirlwind, and as his roar died away so did the wind, though she could still feel the power inside of her.

"And here is what you need to know," he said as he breathed gently over her, imparting the knowledge of her soon-to-be teacher and his whereabouts.

He turned to walk away, but Susan stepped forward over the green grass quickly, not wanting him to leave. "Wait! When will I see you again?" she called. "And do you know about my family? Are they at peace?"

Aslan smiled a knowing smile, his sharp teeth showing from inside his muzzle and he glanced back the way he had come to a patch of rolling hills that disappeared over the horizon. "I will always be there when you most need me, though it might not always be clear to you. Magic works in mysterious ways sometimes. And your family is happy, and safe. They wish you well on your journey."

And with those parting words, he started off for the hills of green, and Susan watched his form get smaller and smaller until he disappeared entirely.

* * *

Susan woke up back on her bed in her apartment, amazed by the dream she'd had. She felt invigorated and reassured by his parting words - it meant that he was in contact with her family.

Thinking through the information Aslan had given her, Susan realized she couldn't continue living in her flat anymore and quickly got up, got dressed and commenced her packing of her things. When she got to the kitchen though, seeing all the dishes and silverware and things that needed to be packed away, she got frustrated.

"I wish they would just pack themselves!" she said angrily, waving her hand to the boxes she had found hidden away.

To her surprise, Susan's gesture was accompanied by a small rush of energy she could feel leaving her body and suddenly plates and cups and bowls, pots and pans and the rest of the things in her kitchen flew through the air and settled themselves neatly in the boxes she had laid out.

Packing the rest of her things went much faster after she had discovered her new 'talent'. Susan was able to have her things packed up, her apartment lease and other arrangements taken care of and had caught the next train to Scotland, ready to begin her life again.

-[]-[]-[]-

Only a month and a half later, on September first, nineteen forty-nine, Susan was seated at the teacher's table at Hogwarts as the newly-instated Transfiguration Professor of the school. It had taken a lot of work over those six short weeks, but Susan had worked hard to understand her magic and the new culture she was being ushered into. Albus had been an excellent teacher, and even though Susan hadn't grown up in the Wizarding World or gone to Hogwarts herself, her magic had flowed easily.

It was relatively easy to use her magic wandlessly and wordlessly (she had found her simple will to have something accomplished was usually enough), but Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of the school and the instructor Aslan had sent her to, had brought her to a place called Diagon Alley to get a wand. Her wand, which was nine and a half inches and made out of fir wood, with a dragon heartstring core, felt like an extension of her arm. It was an absolute breeze to do spells after she had it ready in her hand.

Very soon after arriving at the school, Susan had discovered that her strength was in Transfiguration. While her education in Potions and Charms was going exceedingly slow (she just couldn't understand the mechanics of basically cooking to accomplish magic when she could just wish it to happen and most charms seemed frivolous or silly), her knowledge and skill in Transfiguration grew with leaps and bounds. After only a month of instruction she had almost gotten to the level of Albus himself, who had been the Transfiguration Professor before he had become headmaster.

"I do believe you may know more than I do in a few short months," he had said as she'd cast a perfect Gemino spell on her first try, replicating his plush chair that was seated behind his desk. "This is quite advanced spellwork that you're covering in nearly one-tenth of the time."

Immediately after that he had offered her the job of Transfiguration Professor, saying that the previous Professor was in Africa doing a research project. As a result, her training in fields other than what was necessary (Defense, Herbology, Potions and the like) were slowed almost to a standstill so he could go over lesson plans with her.

And finally, after much work, a few accidents and more than enough gumdrops, Susan was officially a teacher of the school under a new name: Minerva McGonagall. According to Albus, some witches, wizards and magical creatures would recognize the name Susan Pevensie from Narnia, and who better to be named for than the Roman goddess of wisdom? Susan-now-Minerva had blushed a bit at that, but agreed regardless of the reasons.

The Astronomy Professor, Ellaine Anderson, was now calling out the names of those students who would be sorted. Susan looked at the Sorting Hat, with it's ripped brim of a mouth and clapped as each student was sorted. Albus had stuffed the hat on her head during one memorable afternoon at the beginning of her second week she had been at the school, when he had invited her to have tea in his office. She had been surprised at the door by an overlarge hat that fell over her eyes and then proceeded to speak in her mind. She had nearly screamed (to the delight of Albus) as it spoke to her about it's purpose to sort students and why her experiences would qualify her for one house or another. She had been slightly ashamed by the hat's comment about her lack of true loyalty, but proud to hear his praise of her bravery even through danger and her perseverence to do right even when it would be difficult.

"Gryffindor!" the hat had finally shouted, to a few whoops and wolf-whistles from Albus and the other portraits of headmasters and headmistresses around the office. Albus himself had been in Gryffindor, she had learned, and was ridiculously proud of his house history. When he had told her that the Gryffindor symbol was a lion, they had shared a secret smile and Susan had felt truly content for one of the first times in her life.

So, as Albus stood up to address the hall (rather quickly, so they could all fill their bellies) and she gazed down at the students she would be teaching, Susan felt the same sort of magic she had felt without realizing it in Narnia and then again in a stronger sense when Aslan had blessed her with magic of her own. She felt at peace and at home. She felt like she knew her purpose: something much greater than fooling around with a different boy each week or simply working her hardest so she could retire with ease. Susan knew she was at Hogwarts to teach and to learn, to share her knowledge with a younger generation or two.

-[]-[]-[]-

Throughout her many years of teaching, Minerva McGonagall grew to be a force to be reckoned with. Her previous experience with battles had equipped her with enough knowledge of how to control a class (though the Marauders had their ways of irritating the life out of her, even if they did remind her of her brother Edmund on occasion: they were always causing trouble and starting fights) and her gentle nature proved to be a great asset for a job as a teacher.

Minerva fought through and survived two wars, many years of teaching and almost three decades of being headmistress of Hogwarts. She saw through the restoration efforts for the castle to the end both times and was known for having a strict demeanor while having an ear to lend to those who needed it.

And at the end of her life, after dying peacefully in her sleep at a ripe old age, Susan was welcomed to Aslan's country by a whole host of familiar faces, including her family and Albus. Most prominent among the figures standing on the green hills that looked strangely familiar however, was the great Lion himself.

"Welcome Queen Susan the Gentle," he said proudly, coming down the slope to meet her. Then, just loud enough to hear, "You have done well, my child."

Susan smiled brightly and followed Aslan and her family and friends as they ran further up and further in, to spend eternity together.

**line**

**So there it is. :) I don't much like the end, but I feel like the beginning was good... So tell me what you thought! Was there a question you had or a mistake you found? Most of this is canon, but I must confess I screwed around with the timeline a bit. McGonagall became a professor seven years before she did according to the Harry Potter wiki, she did not actually attend Hogwarts and she's not Scottish. Susan is also probably not the same person as Professor McGonagall in real life. I'm not too sure if the information about Dumbledore is correct however... his 'private' wiki page just says that he became headmaster of Hogwarts sometime before 1955, while the more general "What happened in the 1950's" page says he became headmaster in 1956. So not exactly sure what happened there... :P**

**On the other hand, all the information about Narnia/the Pevensies is correct according to the Narnia wiki... so yay! :D**

**Oh, and this was written for the Fanfiction, School of Imagination: Dance Assessment #2, Disco {write a Harry Potter crossover with Chronicles of Narnia}**

**Please review and tell me what you liked/didn't like! Free smiley faces to those who do! ;D**

**Thank you so much for reading! :D**


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